Oliver Twist
Charles Dickens

CHAPTER XXIV
CONTAINS SOME INTRODUCTORY
PARTICULARS RELATIVE TO A YOUNG
GENTLEMAN WHO NOW ARRIVES UPON
THE SCENE; AND A NEW ADVENTURE
WHICH HAPPENED TO OLIVER

It was almost too much happiness to bear. Oliver felt stunned and stupefied
by the unexpected intelligence; he could not weep, or speak, or rest. He had
scarcely the power of understanding anything that had passed, until, after a
long ramble in the quiet evening air, a burst of tears came to his relief, and
he seemed to awaken, all at once, to a full sense of the joyful change that
had occurred, and the almost insupportable load of anguish which had been
taken from his breast.
The night was fast closing in, when he returned homeward: laden with
flowers which he had culled, with peculiar care, for the adornment of the
sick chamber. As he walked briskly along the road, he heard behind him, the
noise of some vehicle, approaching at a furious pace. Looking round, he saw
that it was a post-chaise, driven at great speed; and as the horses were
galloping, and the road was narrow, he stood leaning against a gate until it
should have passed him.
As it dashed on, Oliver caught a glimpse of a man in a white nitecap, whose
face seemed familiar to him, although his view was so brief that he could not
identify the person. In another second or two, the nightcap was thrust out of
the chaise-window, and a stentorian voice bellowed to the driver to stop:
which he did, as soon as he could pull up his horses. Then, the nightcap once
again appeared: and the same voice called Oliver by his name.
’Here!’ cried the voice. ‘Oliver, what’s the news? Miss Rose! Master O-li-

’I think you had better go on to my mother’s in the chaise, Giles,’ said he. ‘I
would rather walk slowly on, so as to gain a little time before I see her. You
can say I am coming.’
’I beg your pardon, Mr. Harry,’ said Giles: giving a final polish to his ruffled
countenance with the handkerchief; ‘but if you would leave the postboy to
say that, I should be very much obliged to you. It wouldn’t be proper for the
maids to see me in this state, sir; I should never have any more authority
with them if they did.’
’Well,’ rejoined Harry Maylie, smiling, ‘you can do as you like. Let him go
on with the luggage, if you wish it, and do you follow with us. Only first
exchange that nightcap for some more appropriate covering, or we shall be
taken for madmen.’
Mr. Giles, reminded of his unbecoming costume, snatched off and pocketed
his nightcap; and substituted a hat, of grave and sober shape, which he took
out of the chaise. This done, the postboy drove off; Giles, Mr. Maylie, and
Oliver, followed at their leisure.
As they walked along, Oliver glanced from time to time with much interest
and curiosity at the new comer. He seemed about five-and-twenty years of
age, and was of the middle height; his countenance was frank and handsome;
and his demeanor easy and prepossessing. Notwithstanding the difference
between youth and age, he bore so strong a likeness to the old lady, that
Oliver would have had no great difficulty in imagining their relationship, if
he had not already spoken of her as his mother.
Mrs. Maylie was anxiously waiting to receive her son when he reached the
cottage. The meeting did not take place without great emotion on both sides.
’Mother!’ whispered the young man; ‘why did you not write before?’
’I did,’ replied Mrs. Maylie; ‘but, on reflection, I determined to keep back
the letter until I had heard Mr. Losberne’s opinion.’
’But why,’ said the young man, ‘why run the chance of that occurring which
so nearly happened? If Rose had—I cannot utter that word now—if this